Best Cid Poems


Premium Member Iris-W

Prized for perfumes and medicines,
Rainbow personified & God’s messenger,
Resting the souls of dead women,
Decorum of the graves,
Delight of the ancient artists.

Blooming on Minoan Walls,
Sculptured in stone at Karnak.
Living memories of the French revolution.
Clovis put you on his banner
And won over Germanic tribe.
Louis VII adopted you as device,
‘Fleur-de-lis’ the symbol of France.
Germany suspended you in beer barrels,
And France to enrich the wine,
England to give flavour to brandies,
And Russia flavoured a soft drink.

Then, plucked in a state of chastity,
Now, relegated to flavour toothpaste.

==========================


Contest:

The poem was read by me at the World congress of Poets held in Iasi, Romania in 2002 
and has been published in the following international magazines:

Copy and paste in your browser the following links:

http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=24119&id=121733
http://www.fieralingue.it/modules.php?
name=Content&pa=list_pages_categories&cid=58
http://www.boloji.com/writers/rammehta.htm
http://www.inditecircle.com/pro/art.php?artid=31
http://www.kavitanjali.com/pgjuly07/iris.htm
http://www.alittlepoetry.com/vs06rammehta.html 
http://www.poetsexpress.com/Winter07/DrRamMehta.htm
http://www.poetry.com
http://www.poetrymagazine.com/archives/2001/April01/mehta.htm

Premium Member Iris-Ii-W

Prized for perfumes and medicines,
Rainbow personified & God’s messenger,
Resting the souls of dead women,
Decorum of the graves,
Delight of the ancient artists.

Blooming on Minoan Walls,
Sculptured in stone at Karnak.
Living memories of the French revolution.
Clovis put you on his banner
And won over Germanic tribe.
Louis VII adopted you as device,
‘Fleur-de-lis’ the symbol of France.
Germany suspended you in beer barrels,
And France to enrich the wine,
England to give flavour to brandies,
And Russia flavoured a soft drink.

Then, plucked in a state of chastity,
Now, relegated to flavour toothpaste.

=============================

Eighth Placement
Contest: Flower Power
==================
The poem was read by me at the World congress of Poets held in Iasi, Romania in 2002 and has been published in the following international magazines:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=24119&id=121733
http://www.fieralingue.it/modules.php?name=Content&pa=list_pages_categories&cid=58
http://www.boloji.com/writers/rammehta.htm
http://www.inditecircle.com/pro/art.php?artid=31
http://www.kavitanjali.com/pgjuly07/iris.htm
http://www.alittlepoetry.com/vs06rammehta.html http://www.poetsexpress.com/Winter07/DrRamMehta.htm
http://www.poetry.com
http://www.poetrymagazine.com/archives/2001/April01/mehta.htm

Premium Member Don't!

Don’t!

Don’t put your thoughts on paper
Don’t dare to think out loud
Don’t express on social media
Don’t put them up in cloud

Don’t criticize the useless
Don’t voice a point of view
Don’t flex your vocal cord
Don’t think you’re immune

Six burly officers are coming
Because of something you said
They crash the door early morning
And they’ll tear you from your bed

They’ll whisk you down the bridewell
Slam you in a six foot by eight
The CID will make you confess
About all the things that you hate

You can shop lift for a past time
Carry a machete along the road
Threaten cut all white throats
And never do as your told

Keep your gob shut firm and tight
Take the pen and put it down
Don’t tweet early morn or late night
Decent is only for a clown.

David Cox 29/03/25
© Dave Cox  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


1957 Bored Out Corvette

I had just left the Fairgrounds Race Track with my dad,  where I won $13.00 on a nag whose name I forget and Dad won nothing, which mattered not since his goal was to 'celebrate' the night with his Candy Apple Red....newly bored out 1957 Chevrolet Corvette by timing it, while crossing Lake Pontchartrain's Causeway.

If you're not familiar, it's New Orleans longest bridge over water at 23.83 miles so off we went. At 11:00 PM the only thing in sight was a couple of lone Sea Gulls. Dad held up his stop watch, hit the gas pedal and zoom, we were gone. I remember when the Vette hit the hump where the bridge opens for boats to pass, it literally left the payment and took flight.  Amazingly, when the four wheels returned to the cement, they were not felt and continued on smoothly to the end of the bridge, where we finally got off.....AMEN!

Daddy was in awe as he pulled over on a side street raising the stop watch to the street lamp in order to claim his glory.  "Baby," he yelled, "Look at this" as he stuck that watch in my face.  The watch reflected a 227 mile per hour trip in eleven minutes flat! 

'Aw Baby you saw it! You lived it! Who cares if no one believes us! We did it!"

Dad owned New Orleans Ford Service Company but he was always a Chevy man at heart.  He'd pull the 283-cid V-8 engine and to him it was the most revered engine in the entire world. The small block was what he was most proud to convey to any on lookers whether interested or not. He'd rave, "it's been bored out to  1/8 inch to 3.875 in stroke remained a short 3.00 in." 

That was a long FAST memory ago. One I shall never forget! Did we really go that fast? Yes, according to his stop watch.....
© Judy Konos  Create an image from this poem.
dad

Chicken Little

Chicken Little ( by Myself and Shukura Porter)

A crackhead stands out on the corner holding a torn Bible...claiming he has found religion...still very much in the midst of his own addiction ...a "wino" sleeps in the streets only to wake up and remind others that he once was a he great "war hero" (that's an oxymoron by the way)....A wayward woman kills and buries her own seed insisting that this was a part of some path to ultimate "righteousness"...*DECEPTION OF SELF* ...lies lies what a web of lies....the mistreatment of dear life ...such a painful sight to witness... and though I'm not sure where it all actually began the end is quite clear...that if we're not careful it could for us be also near....while these words may seem cynical I write not only to incite fear...but a sense of urgency...THE SKY IS FALLING...a once primitive civilization of people now decayed from decades of decadence....it's evident in what we have now become to be...THE SKY IS FALLING....and if you even began to look you would understand...consequently so are we... -"CiD"

All of this has grown even worse in a rapid motion. Waves of self defeat engulfed the souls that walk the land of the free. Betrayal has become a friend of many and she brings Misery and Death with her to watch the THE SKY FALL. 
There is a great war happening between the soul and the flesh. A war between the eyes and hands. The suffering eyes are being blinded, covered by the hands. The suffering eyes are paying for what the hands have touched. Now the windows of the soul have become clouded. Mutiny to life. The ears and tongue are allies in the horrific battle but are the enemy to the eyes. The hands lead the way, the mouth declares decrees and demands, the ears hear indirect instruction. Eyes are blind to the sight of the truth of self power to overcome. THE SKY IS FALLING - Shukura Porter
Form:

Premium Member Iris-W

Prized for perfumes and medicines,
Rainbow personified & God’s messenger,
Resting the souls of dead women,
Decorum of the graves,
Delight of the ancient artists.

Blooming on Minoan Walls,
Sculptured in stone at Karnak.
Living memories of the French revolution.
Clovis put you on his banner
And won over Germanic tribe.
Louis VII adopted you as device,
‘Fleur-de-lis’ the symbol of France.
Germany suspended you in beer barrels,
And France to enrich the wine,
England to give flavour to brandies,
And Russia flavoured a soft drink.

Then, plucked in a state of chastity,
Now, relegated to flavour toothpaste.

==========================
Dr. Ram Mehta

Third Place win in:
Contest: Best Blossom Design (Flower Poem) sponsored by the Destroyer Poet

=================================================

The poem was read by me at the World congress of Poets held in Iasi, Romania in 2002 and has been published in the following international magazines:

Copy and paste in your browser the following links:

http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=24119&id=121733
http://www.fieralingue.it/modules.php?name=Content&pa=list_pages_categories&cid=58
http://www.boloji.com/writers/rammehta.htm
http://www.inditecircle.com/pro/art.php?artid=31
http://www.kavitanjali.com/pgjuly07/iris.htm
http://www.alittlepoetry.com/vs06rammehta.html http://www.poetsexpress.com/Winter07/DrRamMehta.htm
http://www.poetry.com
http://www.poetrymagazine.com/archives/2001/April01/mehta.htm
Form: Lyric


The Truth About Nightlights

As children we FEAR darkness…we’re not able to fully comprehend why but somehow we know the misery that it brings…there comes a point in time however when we become more and more comfortable with darkness…we FEEL we are able to “understand” it….from that point it then becomes a likely companion…steering us away from everything that is the LIGHT…we are all able to identify with PAIN and anguish in one way or another….of course there is no wrongdoing in this…it is when we immerse ourselves in pure unbalanced EVIL…that does a grave injustice to our own SELF…the BRAIN becomes clouded with thoughts of ANGER and misfortune…the SPIRIT begins to deteriorate from the toxins of iniquity…it is imperative that we treat the tri-fecta (MIND,BODY, SOUL) with much better care…let us not be bamboozled by the seductiveness of the shadows…YOU are a gift and the present is always a chance…take CONTROL of the chance…liberate yourself from your own demons…fall not at the knees of being tragically dispositioned…instead embrace inner BALANCE….+- +- +- +-

CiD *Conquering Inner Demons*
4:20
S.E.L.F (Spiritual Evolution Last Forever)
Form:

Premium Member Farewell In Madrid

On a bright broad beach near Barcelona
Where I was feeling so all alone-a
A glorious vision strode into view.
Like Rubirosa, I knew what to do.

I charmed this woman from Segovia,
A fair descendant of the great El Cid.
Her radiant eyes and shimmering hair
Caused many a wag to stammer and stare.

She charged my cardiovascular pump
But in Madrid she tossed me on the dump.
Like a cop she caused cardiac arrest
As my collapsed knees can truly attest.

As I lay in my bed about half dead
This fair lady came with a smile like lead,
Making me feel old and filled with deep dread,
She offered farewell with the words she said,

“You poor lost puppy here is a new leash
For some silly maid to have and to hold.
I must confess I am quite over ya
I’m leaving Madrid for Segovia.”

Paper Cuts Paper Heals

Blank white sheet of paper FOREVER I AM in your debt…please allow me to EXPRESS my INFINITE gratitude… for it was you that granted me the chance to finally RELEASE…*FREEDOM*…for so long I’ve searched for a home that I could sincerely call my own…I know now that close to you is where I’ve always belonged…to the only one who embraced me fully and never passed judgment…UNDERSTANDING from where I’ve come and how long of a journey it’s been…rescuing me from the pit of sometimes my own self-pity…and when I submerged into the darkness of misery…you provided the LIGHT for me to follow….the man that I AM today is more than a man…it is every man that has endured pain and suffering and rose from the ashes…*RISING SUN (SON)*…it is with you that I am able to share that EXPERIENCE…I HOPE you’re able to understand so many understatements…a simple LETTER to the one I truly adore…my greatest appreciation…

CiD *Creativity Is Demanding*
Add Watercolor
Form: Ode

A Sad Story Told From a Battlefield

He didn’t have a native land, 
therefore, he had no reminiscences of any sort,
neither good nor ill, other than reckless killing 
at the battlefield where he was compulsorily taken into 
and deployed to fight unwanted fight: the legend of warmhearted provisions provided in the name of el Cid Rodrigo Diaz De Vival
to the foes is only the beautified story of Castile.

The Faithfulness that even risks own life for fidelity is
though lonely one’s heart’s desire, he knew not the friendship
for he lived the life without a friend other than ghastly cry of tottering, collapsed, crawling and mutilated bodies of neither to call the enemies’ nor friends’: the beautiful friendship that of Pythias and Daimon is
the drifting clouds above the Sicily, it is the fancy of dearest wish,
the concocted tales that to honor the tyrant of Syracuse.

He didn’t have a home; therefore, he doesn’t know what is the love,
other than the deep wound of maternal love he saw at the battlefield;
the grief that of an old woman who was holding her slain son in her arms 
with absent-minded, who was washing the blood off
from the slaughtered son’s face with tears: it is the horrifying myth 
of Persephone who can only able to have a stillborn child.
It is the dark shadow of the daughter of Demeter who goes back and forth 
along the other side of Styx counting days till spring is to come.


He didn’t have wife, therefore, he lived his life without knowing 
what is the intimate love, other than touch of a foreign woman
who sales long kept chastity for a loaf of bread in the gathering darkness; 
who weeps alone in the ruin at the roadside where 
the cannonade booms to deafen the air: it is the shadow of the curse 
on Oedipus who though able to solve the riddle of Sphinx
able not to flee from the irony of life. It is the damnation on the king of Thebes, who roams in the darkness led by two tender aged daughters.
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.

Stargazing: the Hopefulness of the Human Heart

Understanding WE may never physically be ....it continues to be a concept that I often contemplate...a mental picture in my head that I constantly visualize...I keep my DISTANCE...wondering if I'm even worth your time...admiring you from afar as if you were some shining star...*INTRIGUED*....feelings that I've fought in the past...they manifest until finally reaching the surface...*HOPELESS*...I'm unable to subdue what my truly heart desires...what's next?...I don't have an answer...but I feel this moment of clarity is necessary...for sanity's sake... 

To Be Continued


CiD *Chivalry Is Dead*
"A Hopeful Cynic"
Form: Ode

Body Count

A man dies...without any 
realization of the event taken 
place...his soul manipulated 
and deteriorated by a world he 
knows not to be malignant...a 
Divine Being deprived of his 
true potential...now reduced to 
only BEING null and void... 
*ANOTHER MAN DIES* seeking 
all the transient pleasures the 
world has to offer...yet he has 
not SEARCHED deep within for 
true worth ....the value of the 
MIND BODY and SOUL 
interchanged for monetary 
gain...the sight of this 
continuous cycle  pains my 
heart...*ANOTHER MAN 
DIES*...not the physical death 
but perishes 
eternally...unbeknownst he has 
truly never lived at all...

CiD *Conformity Is Death*
4:20
BREAKFAST CLUB
Form:

Beautifully Unfinished

These thoughts play back in my head again and again like a sappy love song on the radio...*REPETITION REPETITION*..."CAN WE TALK for a minute"?....so many questions that I need to ask...the when the what and the why....mostly the WHY is WHAT boggles my mind...WHEN will the answers be revealed?...while I continue to propose these questions...never do I fret nor lose focus...instead I'm patient enough to wonder....and while I wander through this forest of great confusion....I find inner peace in the search for knowledge and wisdom....and even with what's already understood I understand that I've not yet reached complete and total understanding....I FEEL a certain sense of rush knowing that my journey is very much still ahead of me....as I walk down the path of what is true SELF DISCOVERY...I marvel at artistry of creation...and appreciate the blessings of being.... "beautifully UNFINISHED"....

CiD *Challenging Industrial Dictators*
4:20
Milk And Bread

Premium Member No Bull -- a Poetry Collaboratry -- Belle Bellevue and Gershon Wolf

A fool matador by name of El Cid
Could not control either ego or id
  Turned his back on the bull
  Felt a rude tug, hard pull
Two horns split his tights down the seams, they did

One should never turn his back on a bull
Unless, of course, one's extremely skillful
  Bulls are fierce and large
  For certain they'll charge
Just to get a yummy good bellyful



        ~  B.B. and G.W. ~
Form: Limerick

My Purple Heart

MY PURPLE HEART

This is the greatest war known to man…the opening shots have been fired…I try to mask my fear with the face of bravery…I know I have to be strong…As my eyes wander the field in search of my fellow comrades…I see endless bodies of those who suffered a similar fate…some of which the deaths were self-inflicted because the pain was too much to bear…I become overwhelmed with thoughts of insecurity…I wonder if I’ll ever be the same…the pressure continues to build…I’ve become a nervous wreck…my hearts beats uncontrollably…I must find a way to maintain…surrender is NOT option…I remind myself that while fear is present…to always adapt and OVERCOME…with motivation and dedication I charge my way into battle…this is the greatest war known to man…this is the battle of…LOVE

-CiD
“Conformity Is Death”
Form:

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